


Broken Pieces

by IPaige



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:13:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22431652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IPaige/pseuds/IPaige
Summary: Bellamy Blake is intrigued by his new-ish roommate; Jonathan Murphy. Even more so when he learns more about his relationship with one Clarke Griffin.Murphy's damaged, angry and broken. Clarke is no where to be found and Bellamy is just trying to work out who the hell his roommate really is.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/John Murphy
Comments: 12
Kudos: 114





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a long, long time. But wanted to get back into my writing and finish off some previous stories. But decided to write this as a bit of leaping board, get me back into the spirt. 
> 
> This is two shot story, second part will be up soon. 
> 
> Let me know what you think!

** Broken Pieces **

_Bellamy:_

Bellamy rolled his eyes, sighing deeply. The kitchen was trashed. Again. Bellamy wasn’t asking for much, it didn’t need to be spotless but… ugh, he wanted to at least be able to put his hand on the kitchen bench without taking it off and walking away with raw egg coating his hand.

Shaking his hand which was now covered in semi dried egg, Bellamy begun to clean, starting with the egg and flour which was creating a gloopy film across the stone bench.

“Fucking Murphy…. “

After thoroughly cleaning the kitchen, Bellamy dialled Murphy’s number. Holding the phone between his ear and shoulder as he listened to the phone ring out, while he continued to clean.

“Murphy, could you maybe not trash our apartment. I live here too, and I’d prefer to not be in what can only be described as the pits of a rubbish pit.”

Bellamy shook his head, pushing the fallen curls out of his eyes. In the four months he’d known Murphy, he’d hated _almost_ every second. Bellamy had met him after he placed an ad online for a roommate, Miller had moved out to live with his boyfriend. Leaving Bellamy, the soul name on their expensive house lease. He didn’t blame Miller, in fact he had encouraged him. But when faced with the rent and other bills, he had realised that he couldn’t quite afford it.

Insert Jonathan Murphy.

He could admit that Murphy was alright… on occasion. They’d spent many a night drinking together and watching crap TV. But it was hard to get a read on the real Murphy. He also slinked off in the middle of the night without reason. Dogged out on plans and had an extremely bad temper when provoked.

Five months and Bellamy still wouldn’t call them ‘friends.’ He would have said they could be, but Murphy had a tense, strong, impenetrable wall up that you couldn’t break through.

Bellamy would have given up, but they did live together and there were times when he was a genuine individual. 

Slipping into the living room, Bellamy picked up the stack of paper. Intent on reviewing the novel before the morning was over. He fully planned to use his weekend for something other than work, despite what his asshole of a boss thought, he did have a life.

-&-

Bellamy sent a somewhat passive aggressive text to Murphy as he stepped out the front door.

_Heading to ‘Grounders’ for drinks with everyone if you want to socialise at all today._

Murphy was in an extreme mood. He’d come home slamming the front door and his dour mood had only been made worse by Bellamy’s spirited remark about the mess in the kitchen.

Perhaps that’s why he had invited him to ‘Grounders’ with Miller, Raven, and Octavia, Monty and Jasper. It was a tight knit group and generally their monthly Saturday catch up was closed to partners and outsiders, strictly the original six. But Murphy had looked… off. The others had begrudgingly agreed to his potential attendance.

Slipping into the booth again, handing out the drinks he’d just bought for the group. He quickly checked his phone before returning his attention to the conversations around the booth.

Monty and Jasper were involved in an intense hypothetical conversation about growth patterns and fermenting fruits. Bellamy knew it was hypothetical, as Jasper had turned to him and Miller and winked while slowly mouthing the words; _just a hypothetical._ With an added grin aimed towards Miller. Miller smirked at the exaggerated comments. Monty and Jasper’s hobbies were a well-known fact. But they’d taken their conversations out of ear shot for Miller’s career’s sake, and when they couldn’t, they only spoke in hypotheticals.

Monty turned an extravagant smile covering his face, “shh Jasper. There could be narks patrolling, listening.”

Miller lowered his gaze, taking a large sip from his beer. “Relax, I’m not in uniform or on duty. You’re good.”

Jasper went to open his mouth, but Miller jumped in before his mouth could attempt to engulf his whole foot. “But I am still an officer.”

Bellamy smirked at the sour look on Jasper’s face, knowing that it would be only a moment before he was goofing off and being silly again, distracted by something Monty said. Slipping his hand around the glass in front of him, Bellamy prepared to take a long slip of his beer. A hand shot out, grabbing it roughly from his grip. He looked up to see Murphy standing next to him, his hair a mess and his shirt buttoned incorrectly. Finishing the glass, Murphy slammed it against the table.

“I assume you’re buying.” Bellamy felt his jaw tick at Murphy’s tone.

Murphy slid into the booth next to Miller, when he begun to eye his drink. Miller stared straight back, making sure there was clear eye contact as he downed his own drink before Murphy could.

Murphy sneered, the left side of his top lip, quirking quickly. Before his face dropped into a blank mask. “Well, that was a dick move. Didn’t expect that from the righteous Nathan Miller.”

Bellamy could see O, seething from across the table. Her tolerance for Murphy, as usual, very low. Sensing that Murphy was in one of his extreme moods and Bellamy’s invite had clearly been a mistake, he quickly jumped up to stop a potential fight between them. Murphy didn’t need a bruised face and ego, alongside the shit mood he was in.

“Come on Murphy, I’ll buy if you help me carry the drinks.”

Bellamy strode quickly to the bar sparing a quick glance behind him, just to ensure Murphy was following. He was. When they reached the dark bar, Bellamy leaned down against it. His elbows digging into the bar, as he waited for the bartender’s attention. Murphy hovered just next to him, huffing and looking antsy next to him.

As the both begun to collect the drinks, Bellamy turned to Murphy, helping him pick up glasses. “Murphy. Don’t be an ass. I invited you because I thought you could be a decent person for at least an hour.”

Shaking the hair from his eyes, Murphy’s tone was deep and hallow, “Trust me. Right now, this is me being decent.”

As Murphy went to take another glass, Bellamy refused to release it until Murphy met his eyes. “Try harder. Or leave.”

Slipping back into the booth, they both handed out the drinks. Murphy sat back against the leather, sinking into the booth as he sipped his drink.

-&-

“I’m quitting.” Raven slipped her hand around the glass, nodding to Bellamy at his eyebrows rose at her words, before looking back at O.

“No, you’re not. Don’t be dramatic.”

“I am. Tomorrow.”

“Nope” O quirked her eyebrow, practically begging for a fight.

Miller slumped against the table top, clearly over this back and forth, looking towards Bellamy.

Bellamy just stared back, confused.

“Rae, why are you quitting this time?”

“Because of that bitch Griffin. She thinks because she tosses her money around she can control every minute detail of the project.”

Murphy sputtered into his drink, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. He had been unusually quiet after Bellamy’s words, simply sitting back and drinking while he watched them all until now.

“Griffin?”  
  
Raven turned towards him, Bellamy could see the muscle in her jaw tick as she retrained herself. “Yeah”  
  


Murphy slid the glass before him out of the way, leaning over Miller towards Raven, he unintentionally put his hand against Jasper’s thigh as he attempted to climb over the bodies between him and Raven. Jasper quickly slapped at his hand, making a rude comment about Murphy’s sexual preferences.

Bellamy expected a retort, anger, a punch?

Instead he watched Murphy’s face begun to crumple and contort in pain. “About 5’5”, short blonde hair, bright blue eyes...... gorgeous?” The last part was said under his breath, as Murphy’s head dropped.

Raven looked around the table quickly. “No… Blondish longer hair, brown eyes, older.”

Murphy seemed to slowly take in the information, moving back to his original position, leaning back against the leather, absentmindedly he reached for his forgotten glass twisting the glass around the table.

“Abigail Griffin?”

Raven let out an undignified snort, “yep.” A few looks were passed around the table before Octavia broke the silence.

“You know her.”  
  
Murphy slammed the glass against the table breaking it. “Unfortunately, yes. A little too well.”

Bellamy noticed the bartender moving towards their table, his shoulders tense and a fierce expression on his face, Murphy did too. He stood and moved towards him, Bellamy watched the exchange before Murphy’s arm pulled back then flew towards the bartender’s face. 

-&-

_Murphy:_

Murphy slumped against Bellamy’s shoulder, the others were close behind them, huffing with exaggerated sighs. It was almost amusing.

“Good one Murphy. Just like you to get kicked out of our favourite bar.” Murphy sneered at his words.

“You didn’t have to come to my rescue.” He rubbed his face, hiding the wince as he pushed against a tender spot.

“What is your problem?” pushing off Bellamy’s shoulder Murphy turned his mocking sneer towards the shorter of the Blake siblings.

“My problem. Right now.” Murphy leaned closer, breathing against her cheek. “Is you.”

“Murphy. Back off.” Realising that Bellamy’s generosity was wearing thin, he turned, ignoring their calls as he begun to walk away.

He didn’t need their shit. He shouldn’t have even come.

Tonight, was just another shit day, in a long list of shit days in the life of Jonathan Murphy. 

Realising they were following, probably due to their self-righteous need to be good, and not let him wander off drunk and alone. He turned, preparing to tell them to let him wallow in his misery.  
  
He felt his foot slip and twist but barely noticed it. Too caught up in his anger.

-&-

_Octavia:_

Octavia huffed again. Walking up and down the bright hallway.

Fucking Murphy. Turning her eyes on Bellamy, she waited until she caught his eyes.

Bellamy sighed, running a hand through the curls at the base of his neck. “Don’t say it O.”

“Say what Bell. That this is the worst night ever and it could have been avoided.”  
Octavia stood before him, her hands on her hips.

“What do you want from me O? The guy looked like shit, I thought a good night out might help him.”  
  
“Well it was neither a ‘good’ night, or helpful for Murphy.”  
  
Next to him Miller released a huff of air, “obviously.”

Monty and Jasper were relatively quiet but, Octavia figured that was due to their slow but sure comedown. Raven was stretching out her leg, looking tired and gloomy. “Am I the only one wondering why we’re still here? Waiting around like we’re concerned family.”

Bellamy stood, grabbing gently at her arm, in an attempt to calm her. The nurses at the station near them, had looked quickly in her direction after her comment.

“Because Murphy’s unconscious and bleeding.”

Octavia tried to ignore the tinge of sympathy she felt. “So? He’s getting 9 stiches in the back of his head, they said he’ll be fine. Ready to go home tomorrow.”

“O, come on. We can’t leave the guy alone in the hospital.”  
  
Miller’s deep voice broke the tense atmosphere between the two siblings, “look we’ll just stay to make sure he’s okay. As soon as he’s conscious he’ll tell us to ‘fuck off’ and we’ll be on our way.”

Octavia slipped into Bellamy’s now empty set, “awesome.”

One of the nurses slipped around the bench, walking towards the group. She had clearly overheard their conversation.

They all instinctively turned towards her, she looked a little overwhelmed and stopped about a foot away from Bell.

She addressed them all, but focused mostly on her brother as he was closest.  
  


“Your friend…” she seemed to stutter over the word, her eyes flicking towards Octavia, clearly unsure about her use of the term: _friend_. Octavia in turn rolled her eyes, before catching Miller’s eye, hoping he’d share her exasperation.

“He’s fine. The doctor is with him now, just checking his stiches. Unfortunately, I can’t let you all in to see him right now.”

Octavia tried to control her sigh, she was beyond ready to be home in bed beside her boyfriend.

“We just wanted to confirm, that Mr. Murphy’s wife had been contacted?”

The group seemed to tense at her question, confused.

“Wife?” Bellamy stuttered as he spoke, clearly, he was unaware of her too.

The nurse quickly turned grabbing the clip board, “yes. A Mrs Clarke Griffin- Murphy.”

-&-


	2. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wasn't going to add more. But I've decided to get back into writing and this seemed like a good way to get back into things, especially since this ending seemed to anger people, (sorry!). So here's a second chapter and I've almost finished the next one which should be the last one for this story :)

**Part Two**

_Bellamy **:**_

Cranking his neck from left to right. The ache in his neck, increasing with every twist. Bellamy sighed loudly, stretching his legs out again then tucking them beneath the chair again.

The others had long since gone, although Octavia had offered to stay. But Bellamy was aware it had nothing to do with Murphy’s welfare, and more to do with the burning intrigue about Murphy’s wife.

Looking towards the unconscious man, Bellamy tried to string the pieces together. In an attempt to understand the man that was John Murphy, it didn’t seem likely that Bellamy would ever understand him.

“What-… “

There was a sudden silence as Murphy struggled to sit upright and comprehend what had happened. “Fuck.” Murphy rubbed his hand against his forehead, finally noticing that Bellamy was sat nearby.

“What are you doing here?”  
  
Raising his eyebrow, Bellamy crossed his arms. “Really?”

Growling quietly and muttering under his breath, Murphy started to stretch before twisting his neck and letting out a groan. Turning back to face Bellamy, Murphy looked a little bashful.

“Thanks –” Murphy broke off but Bellamy stayed quiet. “For… um staying around I guess.”

Rolling his eyes, Bellamy stood up. “I’m going to get a nurse. They said when you woke up they’d just need to check you out and then you should be good to go.”

As Bellamy moved towards the door, Murphy huffed. Choosing to ignore it Bellamy made his way down the long hallways, back towards the nurses’ station. Upon getting there, Bellamy stood off to the side, waiting patiently as the nurse spoke to a young woman. The others had left not long ago, after Bellamy’s insistences they would be okay. Pulling out his phone Bellamy sent of a few quick texts to let them know Murphy was alive, _(Octavia: whoop-de-fucking-do)._

“So, he’s okay?”

“Yes Ma’am,” Bellamy listened to the conversation absentmindedly, the nurse offered the woman a polite but strained smile, indicating she had perhaps answered this question for her more than once. “He had a slight laceration, due to the fall, at the back of his head. He was rendered unconscious for a few minutes and was brought here. He has a concussion which has given him quite a headache but aside from a few minor side effects from the concussion, he will be fine in a few days.”

Bellamy took more notice of the conversation, and the participates. Noticing the similarities between the nurse’s comments and what happened to Murphy. The young woman before him was quite petite, her blonde curls were wrapped up in a bun, a few curls had fallen loose around the back of her neck. Bellamy let his eyes fall to take her in, from what he could see her jeans were splattered with paint and her jacket was much too large for her frame.   
  
The nurse finally took notice of him and gave him a relieved smile, before returning her eyes to the young woman. Nodding her head, indicating for the blonde to turn as she spoke, “your husband’s friend can walk you down to his room. But he should be good to leave after a final check-up and some paper work”.

The air in Bellamy’s throat caught, before he managed to cough quietly moving past the restriction in his throat, as he realised the petite woman was Murphy’s mystery wife. She turned then and Bellamy was able to finally see her face.

She looked, well… nothing like what Bellamy expected. In the short time, he’d had to consider what Murphy’s wife would look like, he had imagined a tall, dark and severe looking woman. Nothing like the woman who stood before him. This woman, was soft, petite and delicate. With dark, thick lashes which surrounded innocent blue eyes. Her cheeks were softly rounded and her mouth was pulled into a hard line as her teeth begun to nip at her lower lip. She was clearly fatigued and she looked withdrawn and unnerved upon seeing him. 

Realising he’d been quiet for a tad too long, Bellamy held out his hand. “Bellamy”

Her eyes slid down to his palm, but she made no move to shake his outstretched hand. “Clarke.” Her eyes met his again.

At this point the nurse had moved to the side to continue with other work, leaving an awkward tension between the two of them. Bellamy turned, assuming Clarke would quickly follow she hesitated a moment before following Bellamy off to the side. Her movements were sluggish and slow, so Bellamy slowed his own pace to match hers.   
  
“Look, I don’t need to see John.” Bellamy’s eyebrows lifted slightly. But she continued on before he could, “I came because they called that’s it. I really don’t need the hassle and I don’t need to be escorted by one of his ‘friends’” Her tone soured on the final word.

Pausing, Bellamy turned to face her, forcing her to stop mid-step. “You don’t want to see your husband, who is in hospital.” Despite being statements the inflection in his tone made it clear it was a question.

Clarke’s eyes immediately hardened. “Look. I don’t know what you and John were up to and I don’t want to know. I don’t care. He’s fine. There’s no reason for me to be here.” Clarke crossed her arms tightly across her chest, and Bellamy realised she was standing tense and upright, her arms poised to separate them. Her eyes condemning and harsh.

“We were getting a few drinks with friends.”

“John doesn’t do just a _few_ drinks and he definitely doesn’t do friends.”

Bellamy snorted but knew what she meant, he shrugged but begun to move down the hallway again. “Friends might be an overstatement at times. We’re roommates,” he ended awkwardly. Bellamy shrugged realising it didn’t quite answer all the questions she probably had.

Clarke nodded. For a few moments, they walked in silence.

“So – why come?” He paused realising his phrasing was weird and out of place. ”I mean we didn’t even know about you. So…” He said it out of genuine curiosity. But quickly realised he was probably way out of line to even ask.

Murphy had seemed like an odd mystery with a hidden past but Clarke’s appearance and attitude only added to the mystery which was Murphy. Bellamy was not foreign to the breakdown of relationships, which Bellamy assumed was clearly the case between them but Clarke’s frazzled appearance and quivering lip denoted otherwise about her feelings towards Murphy. 

She huffed, clearly rebuffing his attempts to understand. “You know.” She unwound her hands, twisting one into the curls that had dropped from her bun at the back of her head as her face dropped into a look of confusion, “I don’t know.” The second part was said more to herself.

Reaching out, Bellamy awkwardly patted her shoulder, unsure how to reassure her, especially since she was clearly so reluctant to accept reassurance from him. “Look, Murphy is fine. Why don’t we head down to see him - ”

Breaking off mid-sentence as a huge bang sounded and Murphy splattered a barrage of expletives, before finally popping out from the room and into the hallway.

“Bloody ridiculous. I’m FINE!” Murphy slouched as the doctor rushed behind him attempting to coach him back into the room. When it was clear he wouldn’t be swayed, the doctor turned and left Murphy to leave.

Both Bellamy and Clarke turned at Murphy’s crash entrance, coughing loudly, Bellamy gained his attention. Looking up Murphy froze as he caught sight of Clarke beside him. Bellamy’s eyes flicked between the two of them.

“Clarke.” He breathed her name with such reverence, that Bellamy felt almost intrusive to their moment.

“John.” Clarke nodded, sternly then. “Well, I’m glad to see you’re fine.”

Murphy seemed to almost fall forward taking another two steps forward, before stopping freezing again. “I’m – ah I’m glad you came.”

“I guess I was under the impression you were gravely hurt. My mistake, I can see the condition which inflicted you was merely stupidity and unfort-“

“-Unfortunately, it is a life-long condition.” Murphy smiled. Bellamy turned to see Clarke’s response but she seemed unsure. Upon realising he was watching the interaction, Clarke turned away from him slightly.

“I have to go John.” Murphy seemed to crumble at her words. Clarke reached one hand out, as if to touch him but she quickly pulled it back. “I am glad you’re okay.”

Clarke turned and walked steadfast away from them, when she turned the corner at the end of the hallway, and was out of sight, Murphy moved forward as if nothing has happened. “Come on Bellamy, I’m fucking tired.”

Catching up with him, Bellamy knew he’d be pushing it but couldn’t stop himself. “Wife, huh?”


End file.
